Just One Hitch
by jubee907
Summary: Being forced to marry the wealthy, intelligent, handsome Damon Salvatore wouldn't seem like a bad deal to most girls. But Elena Gilbert is not like most girls. What happens when she's shipped off to New York City with her future beau, forced to pay the role of his high-society fiance?
1. Chapter 1

"Beep, beep, beep…" Elena Gilbert, for possibly the first time in her entire high school career, smiled and sat straight up in bed at the sound of her alarm clock. It was 7:00 AM on a Monday morning, and any other day she would have rolled over and pressed snooze, hoping that ten extra minutes of sleep would magically give her the energy she needed to go to school. But today was different. Today was the last day of Elena's senior year, her last day as a high schooler. Ever. And she could not be happier about it. Starting tomorrow, she would be free of classes, stress, and homework. She could finally start her job at the trendy clothing store, Rag Apparel, which was just about the best summer job a Mystic Falls teenager could hope for. And she would have as much time as possible to soak up the sun with her best friends, Bonnie and Caroline, before it was time to pack up for Stanford in the fall.

Elena pushed out of bed and flipped her alarm clock onto the radio setting, blasting a fun pop song as she threw on a pair of denim cutoffs and a plain white tee shirt. She knew her mother would prefer if she wore something nicer ("Its the last day of school! End on a high note!") but Elena had no time to worry about putting on a perfectly ironed pencil skirt and pumps or, even worse, the preppy stripped dress her mother had bought her months ago that was still hanging in the back of her closet.

"Good morning!" She cooed as she hopped down the stairs after running a brush through her long, straight brown hair and wiping the sleep away from her large brown eyes. The Gilbert's large stainless steel kitchen was full of delicious breakfast scents like frying bacon, scrambled eggs, and slightly burnt toast, just how Elena liked it. She grabbed a slice that the housekeeper, Maureen, offered her, and slipped into a chair next to her mother at the kitchen table.

Dianna Gilbert looked up at Elena and was about to make a comment about her outfit before stopping and simply saying "Good morning." Elena could see the thought process run through her mother's mind, and was grateful that finally, on the last day of senior year, her mother was going to let her be herself.

"Your father's already at work," Dianna tucked a strand of thick brown hair behind her ear and flipped to a new page in the paper, ignoring the large platter of breakfast food Maureen sat on the table. Elena's father was the president of a growing oil company, and her mother often worked alongside him as his assistant. It was normal for both parents to be absent from the breakfast table most days. Even though Elena was aware that her parent's company was what allowed her to live in their beautiful Tudor house, and was the reason she could afford to go to Stanford, she resented the fact that it gave their entire family a snobby, materialistic reputation. And sometimes it wasn't just a reputation - it was a reality. Ever since the company started gaining business, Elena's father had turned into a workaholic and her mother had become distant. They both tried to pull Elena into their new lifestyle, introducing her to preppy rich boys and trying to get her to wear tennis dresses and bond with the stuck-up, shopping-obsessed daughters of their coworkers. But she had always managed to resist these attempts, something she knew they both resented.

A car honked outside and Elena grinned, getting up and running to the front window. Her best friend Bonnie's old Honda looked very out of place driving up the Gilbert's long, cherry tree-lined driveway. Mrs. Gilbert looked out the window and rolled her eyes, barely trying to hide her obvious distaste for Bonnie, the quirky, henna-obsessed vegetarian whose parents were both artists, who had been Elena's best friend for years. "Have a nice day," She murmured as her daughter kissed her on the cheek, grabbed her bag, and ran out the door.

"Hey!" Bonnie yelled over the music blasting from her stereo. It sounded like a mix between dubstep and classic rock. This was a combination Elena normally would have frowned upon, but lately she had become accustomed to Bonnie's new obsession with strange music. She had also become accustomed to late night calls from her friend, with Bonnie insisting that she had to "educate Elena in music" and forcing her to listen to at least two choruses's before she hung up the phone.

The car sped out of the driveway and down the familiar route to the high school, with Elena and Bonnie yelling and laughing excitedly about old memories and summer plans. Bonnie was going away to UCLA in the fall, and Elena wanted to spend as much time with her and Caroline, who was headed to Berkeley, as she could before their lives took different paths. For the last mile of the ride, the girls rolled down all the windows and blasted a song that they used to listen to all the time during freshman year. Elena grinned as she playfully threw her hands in the air in the passenger's seat. She couldn't be happier - the present was perfect and the future was bright, full of friends, fun, and new opportunities.

The rest of the day passed by quickly, with the seniors running around the high school halls wildly taking and laughing, as the teachers had long since given up trying to control them. The moment the bell rang, Elena hopped into a van with Bonnie, Caroline, Caroline's boyfriend Tyler, Matt, a boy who Elena used to date but was now on good friendship terms with, and about a dozen other kids they were friends with. They drove an hour away to the beach and spent the afternoon splashing in the waves before drying off and heading into the city to party at some of the popular clubs. It was almost three AM by the time Caroline finally dropped Elena off at her house. She knew it would have been easier just to sleep over at Caroline's house, but she knew her parents would freak out if they woke up and she wasn't there.

Elena hugged Caroline goodbye and watched as her car drove down the street before sluggishly making her way to the front door. She was still a bit drunk on the iced margaritas she had downed at the club, so when she saw something move in the driveway next door in the dark of the night she almost jumped out of her skin.

The imposing Salvatore mansion was right next door to Elena's house. The Salvatore parents were both in the oil business just like Elena's parents, and she had an inkling that all the fall coffees and cocktail parties her mother hosted when they first moved in four years ago had something to with getting in close to the Salvatore's. She knew they were big names in the industry and didn't doubt that they had helped her parents move up on the oil ladder. She had only seen Mr. and Mrs. Salvatore a couple times - they were a handsome, prestigious-looking couple. She saw their youngest son Stefan a lot more. He was in her grade, a quiet boy who constantly pulled good grades. There was no doubt he was going to take over his father's business one day, but Elena didn't resent him for that. Even though he wore expensive clothes to school and drove a sleek foreign sports car, there was something about his soft, handsome face and golden curls that made him seem like a nice, gentle-minded person. If she wasn't trying to stay as far away from her parent's snobby lifestyle as possible, Elena might have even tried to hook up with Stefan.

Their large brick mansion was usually pretty quiet, which was why Elena was surprised when she saw a figure in the driveway, leaning up against a shiny black Lexus and looking up at the sky. Elena paused at her doorway, peering through the thin row of hedges that separated her property from the Salvatore's and trying to figure out who it was. Not Mr. Salvatore, because he was more heavy set. Was it Stefan? She scooted a little closer to the corner of her doorstep, trying to spot his golden curls. But this figure had dark black hair. Elena squinted, and suddenly she lost her balanced and drunkenly toppled off the edge of the stone doorstep.

"Oof." She landed in the shrubbery with a grunt. Luckily it wasn't a long fall and she was cushioned by a thick, soft flower bush, but it still got the attention of the figure in the Salvatore's driveway. As Elena got up and smoothed the dirt off her clothes, she found Damon Salvatore's piercing blue eyes boring a hole into her skull.

Damon was the older Salvatore brother, and Elena often forgot he even existed because he was always away at Harvard Medical School in Boston. The only time she ever really saw him was in the society pages, which gushed about how he was building a career for himself in medicine with the support of his father, lavished over his perfect grades and accomplishments, and of course gossiped about how good looking he was. They weren't exaggerating. Damon was an older, darker version of Stefan, with thick black hair, stunning blue eyes, and sculpted features that were fit for a male model. Elena couldn't help but do a double take as she made eye contact with him for a moment while regaining her balance on the porch step. She quickly reminded herself that it was pointless to become infatuated with Damon. He was a tycoon just like his father, and there was nothing in his face that made her think he was any different from the pretentious snobs his family often associated with.

There was something odd about the way he was staring at her, though. As she slipped her key into the lock on the front door, she couldn't help but notice that he was looking her up and down, almost checking her out, with an intent stare. Elena frowned to herself. Why would Damon Salvatore, who could get any beautiful women he wanted, be wasting his time checking out an eighteen year old? Even if he was home for the summer, there were plenty of gorgeous older Mystic Falls' girls who would throw themselves at him. As Elena stepped through the doorway with one final glance back at Damon, she decided he was just watching her to see if she'd fall again. He'd probably have a good laugh about it later on while telling the story to his rich polo-wearing friends who were also home for the summer. High-society kids, Elena rolled her eyes at the thought as she pulled an oversize tee-shirt over her head, tucked herself into bed, and promptly fell asleep.

"Elena…" Elena's mother's voice broke through her peaceful, dreamless sleep, and she woke up to find sunlight streaming into her bedroom through the large picture window opposite her bed. A quick glance at the clock told her it was 1:23 PM. Her head was pounding with a hangover, but her mother couldn't know that, so Elena quickly tried to rearrange her expression into one that just looked tired, not still drunk from the night before, which she was pretty sure was the case.

"Why are you still in bed?" Mrs. Gilbert looked perfectly poised, standing at the foot of her daughter's queen size bed in a prim white blouse and perfectly ironed khaki pants. Elena groaned. It was the first day of summer - was her mother seriously getting on her case for sleeping in on today of all days? She plopped her head back down onto her pillow, deciding then and there that she was going to ignore her mom until she went away.

Mrs. Gilbert then said possibly the only words that could get her daughter to pay attention to her again. "We have a big surprise for you." Elena's eyebrows shot up. "Big surprises" in the Gilbert family usually meant something very bad or very good. A "good" example was last year, when it meant that Elena and Caroline, the bubbly blonde who Mr. and Mrs. Gilbert approved of slightly more than Bonnie (probably because her parents were both successful dentists and she liked wearing high heels and getting a new manicure every week) had gotten to go on a cruise to Maui all by themselves over the summer. A "bad" example was two years ago, when Elena had had to spend her winter break tutoring Eric, the pervy twelve year old son of one of her father's coworkers, who somehow got a hold of her cell phone number and sent her slimy texts asking her to wear a low cut dress or "really short shorts" to their tutoring sessions. The only joy Elena had gotten out of that surprise was the look on Eric's face when she trudged up his driveway in a turtleneck and baggy jeans each morning.

"Get dressed and come downstairs," Mrs. Gilbert instructed Elena, pulling her out of her reverie. She couldn't help but feel at least a little excited for the surprise as she splashed cold water on her face and downed a few aspirin for her hangover. Maybe it was some exciting summer vacation, or better yet, a new car for her to bring to Stanford. Elena was still picturing herself sliding into her dorm room driveway in her dream shiny black hybrid when she met her parents in the kitchen five minutes later.

Elena's father, Jonathan Gilbert, a balding but handsome man in his early fifties, was sitting at the table with her mother, pouring over an accounting booklet that was spread out in front of them. When Mr. Gilbert saw his daughter enter the kitchen, he immediately got up and gave her a huge hug.

"There's my young woman!" He was grinning from ear to ear, and Elena smiled back, surprised at his behavior. Usually Mr. Gilbert regarded her with a curse nod or a pat on the back when he was pleased with her. She could tell he hated the decisions she made, from her casual clothes to her extracurricular activities, which included the swim team and prom committee instead of the preppy tennis club and nerdy honors society, like he had pushed her to join. However, today it was like he was a different person, all smiles as he gestured for Elena to sit down at the table, resuming his seat across from her.

Maureen quickly bustled into the kitchen, handing out tea and croissants to the family. Elena's fingers pulled apart a croissant anxiously, wishing her parents would hurry up and finished their breakfast so they could tell her what the surprise was.

Finally, her father put down his mug and pushed a photo across the table to Elena, beaming. It was a picture of the Gilbert's and the entire Salvatore family, including Stefan and Damon. They were standing in front the grand staircase in the Gilbert's home, and everyone was smiling broadly. Mr. Gilbert passed Elena a sheet of paper. On closer look she realized it was a scan of a newspaper article - the headline read "Damon Salvatore Makes Brilliant Discovering Involving Stem Cell Research." It was accompanied by a glossy picture of Damon leaning over a lab table, presumably at Harvard. Elena scanned the article, then frowned up at her father.

"Why are you showing me this?" She asked, confused as to what the Salvatore's had to do with whatever her parents were planning for her.

"Damon Salvatore," Mr. Gilbert responded, grinning broadly. "Handsome, isn't he? He's making groundbreaking discoveries at Harvard Medical School, and he's recently decided he also wants a hand in his father's company. Derek Salvatore decided to give him the job of finding new connections and new companies to invest in. A connection with the Salvatore Oil Co. could really help us reach the next level, Elena."

"Okay…" Elena nodded along quizzically, still not quite sure what all this had to do with her surprise.

"And the best way to get that connection," Mr. Gilbert continued, stirring his tea with growing excitement. "Is to have a tie in between the families."

Elena's aspirin was wearing off and she was starting to feel sluggish again. She couldn't quite follow exactly what her father was saying, but she nodded along anyways. She supposed that this entire thing was just going to turn into another boring discussion about oil and work. She hoped her surprise wasn't some dull internship her father had arranged her to take this summer instead of her job at Rag Apparel.

"… a personal connection is our best bet, and Derek say's that it's exactly what he needs…" Mr. Gilbert was still talking. Elena picked at her croissant again, feeling a bit lightheaded. She wished he would get to the point already. She ran a hand through her hair and wondered if maybe Bonnie would want to hang out at the beach later…

"…to marry Damon Salvatore." Mr. Gilbert splayed his hands out on the table in front of him and looked at Elena expectantly. She started at him blankly. The last few words had caught her attention, but she still had no idea what he was talking about.

"Who?" She asked.

Mr. Gilbert blinked at her. "You."

It took a moment for the words to sink in, and then Elena shot up out of her chair in a swift, sudden motion that she hadn't known her hangover-ridden body was capable of. "What? _What?_"

"Elena, this will give us a leg up in the business that we could never have dreamed of before. Damon is a handsome, wealthy, incredibly intelligent young man with a very bright future ahead of him. He's the best man you'll ever find to marry." Mr. Gilbert pressed his palms together calmly.

Elena wasn't sure if he'd meant the words to be offensive or not, but they cut her like a knife in her frantic state. Angry, hurt, and most of all confused, she turned desperately to her mother, waiting for her to reveal that this was all some big practical joke. Mrs. Gilbert sat quietly at the table next to her husband. She looked a bit distressed, but she said nothing, refusing to make eye contact with her daughter as she nervously shifted the papers in front of her.

"You're not really forcing me to do this, are you?" Elena's voice sounded frail and tiny in the large kitchen. How could her father take away her right to marry who she wanted? How could he force her to become the wife of a man she'd never met? It was all happening so fast, and Elena was having trouble processing it. Her parents had always been a bit ridiculous when it came to their business ventures, but this was a whole new level. "Dad?"

Mr. Gilbert finally looked up. "Of course you don't have to do it." A wave of relief washed over Elena, and she relaxed. So it was all a big joke after all. Or maybe just a suggestion, but nothing that was binding and mandatory. She was about to rejoin her parents at the table and ask them what this was all really about when her father's soft, patient voice cut through the silence again.

"But keep in mind when you're making your choice that I want you to do it. And I am also the one who will be signing the fifty thousand dollar check for Stanford in the fall. I'm a busy man Elena, and I'll have to make extra sure that that check doesn't slip between the cracks." Elena froze. His voice was too soft, too nonchalant sounding to be making these kinds of threats. She couldn't believe that he was going there. A gust of air left her mouth in surprise, and she saw her mother twitch from her seat at the table. Elena waited, but Mrs. Gilbert said nothing.

"I'd like your answer soon Elena." Mr. Gilbert spoke again, casually stirring his tea with a toothpick. "Oh, and if you do decide to say no, and if your college check does slip between the cracks, just know that there will be no place for you here anymore." He bored his pale eyes into Elena, making sure she understood the message loud and clear. Then he got up and smoothly slipped the newspaper clippings and photographs into his coat. "I'll be at the office." He said before exiting the room.

"M-mom?" Elena's eyes were flooded with tears. But Mrs. Gilbert hid her face from her daughter with one hand and refused to speak to her. Once she realized that this really was happening, and that her mother really wasn't going to do anything to stop it, Elena ran up to her bedroom and slammed the door before collapsing on her bed in tears.

She stayed in her bedroom for the next week. Calls, Facebook messages, and texts from Bonnie, Caroline, and the rest of her friends piled up, but she couldn't bring herself to answer them. She didn't know how to explain to them that unless she agreed to marry a man she had never met before, she would be kicked out of her house and would never get to go to Stanford.

While lying in bed, Elena weighed many different options. She could find the money to pay for college herself, of course. That was her first plan. She knew her summer job would never earn her even close to enough, and she'd foolishly never saved up much money because she'd always stupidly assumed her parents would pay for everything she needed. That left her with scholarships. She scoured the internet, looking up every single possible scholarship she could apply for, then called the phone numbers that were listed. But it was too late. Each call she made resulted in a sympathetic "Sorry, all our spots have been filled." By the time her hands were sore from dialing and she had a possibly permanent phone imprint on the side of her face, the most Elena had managed to score was a five hundred dollar loan.

She also considered setting up a lawsuit against her parents. She was 18, so they couldn't force her to marry anyone, could they? But that plan quickly crumbled when she realized that technically they weren't forcing her. They were only threatening to take away her entire future, and she was pretty sure there was no law stating that parents had to pay for their child's college education.

Several times she decided to run away, packing up a bag with extra clothes, some packaged food, and her laptop. But running away was no use. Alone in the city, she'd find herself just as lost as she would be in three months when her father kicked her out for saying no.

So mostly Elena just cried. She refused to eat any of the food Maureen delivered to her bedroom. Sometimes, in fits of rage, she would go to her father's office door and bang on it, cursing him out and yelling, wondering why he had ever decided it was okay to do this to her. He would let it go on for a while, then send someone out, usually Maureen, to escort Elena back to her bedroom.

By the end of the week, Elena was disgusted with just about everyone in her life. Her father. Her mother. And Damon Salvatore. She hated him for agreeing to this. She couldn't imagine what kind of a sick, twisted man would want to marry a barely legal teenager. She wouldn't allow herself to think about what it would be like to actually live with him and be his wife. She wouldn't allow herself to think about how her future was a trap, with no pathway pointing to happiness.

But at the end of the day, Elena was a rational person. She knew she had to make a decision, one that offered the best possible future she could make for herself, giving the circumstances. That was why, exactly a week after her parents had dropped the news on her, she walked into her father's office without knocking one morning, swiftly making her way to stand in front of his desk.

Mr. Gilbert was on the phone, but immediately hung up without a word to the person on the other end when he saw his daughter.

"I'll do it." Elena didn't wait for a greeting. Her voice shook slightly, and she forced herself not to break down into tears. She felt like she was signing her own death sentence.

Mr. Gilbert jumped up from his desk, all smiles. "Elena! I'm so happy you've finally seen the light! You have no idea how beneficial this will be for everyone involved!" He went on and on, and Elena stood stone cold, refusing to move until her father stepped out from behind his desk and walked towards her with open arms. She scuttled away from him like he was a disease ridden rat and glared at him until he dropped his hands to his sides. Only then did she walk towards him again, moving until she was just inches away from his face. She made sure her voice didn't shake this time.

"Just know that I'll never forgive you for this."

The smile slipped off Mr. Gilbert's face as Elena turned and silently walked out of the office, down the hallway, and back into her bedroom. A moment later her door slammed, echoing through the entire house like the first clap of thunder before a storm.


	2. Chapter 2

The rest of the day was a blur for Elena. She barely got three minutes to herself in her bedroom after speaking with her father when her mother knocked on her door, pausing only a moment before letting herself in.

Elena felt a wave of anger run through her body as she locked eyes with her mother. The memories of last week, Mrs. Gilbert's uncomfortable stare when her husband first told Elena of the plan, her pale arms crossed in front of her chest, her lips sealed tightly. She had done nothing. In Elena's time of need, Mrs. Gilbert hadn't once tried to stand up to her husband. And because of that, Elena had nothing left to say to her. She had once only slightly resented her mother, but now she found that she had lost all respect for her.

"What do you want?" She barked harshly at Mrs. Gilbert, who stood in her doorway with her hands folded behind her back. She winced at Elena's cold words, but showed no further reaction.

"I'm pleased with your decision, Elena. You're being very mature about this, and I know that it will all work out to your benefit." Mrs. Gilbert finally spoke in a soft voice, tentatively adjusting a family photo that sat on Elena's dresser. Elena ignored her, pretending she was very interested in folding the patterned blouse in her hands. She wished her mother would just admit that she knew the marriage wasn't fair. Elena _knew_ she thought so. She wished that for once, her mother would stop being her father's feeble assistant and start being his wife, starting with having a say in their daughter's future.

After a long moment of silence, Mrs. Gilbert seemingly accepted that Elena wasn't going to respond and went on talking. "Christine Salvatore wanted me to let you know that Damon is heading up to his apartment in New York City this afternoon. He's on break from school for the summer of course, but apparently he finds staying in Mystic Falls rather… boring. She says he's delighted with your decision and that you're welcome to come with him."

Elena snorted at this. Of course Mr.-Slick-City-Guy found this town boring. There weren't nearly enough supermodels throwing themselves at him or executives kissing his ass. She briefly wondered what his summer would be like in New York City. He probably had tons of friends and connections there. Elena grabbed another shirt off the floor and messily folded it in her hands before sticking it on the top shelf of her closet.

Suddenly, a thought popped into her head. Why not go to New York with Damon? It wasn't that she wanted to spend time with the creep who had agreed to marry her, of course. It was that all the good things she'd had here in Mystic Falls were gone now. She couldn't look at her parents without getting angry. Her bedroom just reminded herself of the week she'd spent crying over the marriage. Her job at Rag Apparel would just be depressing as she watched all the young teens come in and shop, free to marry whoever they wanted one day. The only drawback was that she wouldn't see Bonnie, Caroline, or the others as often. But she could take the train back and visit them for day trips. Plus, she was still dreading telling them the news.

"I'll go." Elena said, feeling satisfied as she watched an expression of shock spread across her mother's face. Of course, she wouldn't be sharing Damon's apartment or anything. She had some cashed saved up, and it was probably enough for a couple months rent if she got a really small place. Plus, if she was ever in trouble she could always steal a few hundred dollar bills from her precious hubby's wallet - there was no way she would ever feel guilty doing something like that after what he'd put her through.

"Oh! Okay!" Mrs. Gilbert looked flustered, and Elena could tell that this was the last thing she'd ever expected. "Do you want me to help you pack up your things?"

"No." Elena brushed past her mother and speed-walked over to the hall closet where the suitcases her stored. It was around noon, and if she was going to pack up her entire closet buy the time Damon left she would need as much time as possible.

Two and a half hours later, Elena was lugging three suitcases stuffed to the brim with her personal belongings across her front lawn and onto the Salvatore's driveway. For someone who liked to think of themselves as a reasonably low maintenance person, she had to admit to herself that she certainly owned a lot of clothing, makeup, and hair products.

Christine Salvatore had phoned the house about an hour ago, clearly delighted upon hearing the news that Elena would be going to New York with Damon. Elena was still a bit surprised with herself when it came to the decision, but the more she thought about it, the more she approved. Mystic Falls was the last place she wanted to be right now. Plus, she'd never been to New York City. She imagined ditching Damon the moment they got there and renting a cool little apartment for herself in the Lower East side. She could save up for a painting easel and teach art classes to pay rent, and on the weekends she could take long walks by the river or in the park with the friend's she'd surely make in the city.

Elena dumped her bags on the Salvatore's driveway. Over the phone, Christine had said that Damon would meet her here with his car all packed and ready to go. But the driveway was deserted. Elena looked up and down the street, but it too was empty. Finally she plopped down on one of her suitcases to wait.

For past few hours she had been packing, her mind had been occupied with thoughts of Damon. She didn't understand why he was doing this. Surely his parents didn't need the social boost or connections for their business – they were already at the top, so it wasn't like they were forcing Damon into this. He was at the top of his game as well, in medical school in the city with tons of rich friends and girlfriends. Why would he choose to tie himself down with a younger girl he'd never met before? It made no sense.

A sudden burst of loud music and car tires made Elena nearly jump out of her skin. She looked up to find a sleek black car pulling into the driveway. It wasn't just any black car; she noticed on further examination, it was the hybrid she'd wanted. And Damon was in the front seat.

He switched off the ignition just moments before he plowed headlong into Elena and her suitcases, hopping out of the car and loping over to her with the keys dangling off his left pinky. Elena tried not to stare. This was only the second or third time she'd actually seen him in person, and he was a bit hard to take in. His physique was perfect – she didn't know how he found time in his busy medical school schedule to make it to the gym, but he must have some sort of a regular work out to keep his lean, toned body in check. His deep tan was accented by the fitted white tee shirt and deep blue jeans he wore, and his dark black hair was perfectly tousled, with a few curls spilling over onto his forehead. But his eyes were perhaps his most striking feature– they stood out, glinting blue like the ocean on a sunny day.

"Hi, I'm Damon Salvatore." Damon smiled and stuck out a hand for Elena to shake. His smile was one that made her wonder why he wasn't already the face of Calvin Klein or some equally prestigious fashion label. One telltale dimple stuck out on the side of his cheek, deepening as he gripped her hand forcefully and shook it. "Nice to meet you."

"I'm Elena." Elena tried to keep her voice even. She was angry with herself for feeling so . . . star struck. He was a normal boy after all. A normal boy that she hated. He was forcing her to marry him, and she had to remind herself that this one fact canceled out her good looks, charm, and fantastic taste in cars. He was ruining her life.

"I know." Damon smirked, and Elena rolled her eyes. Before she could say anything, Damon had leaned down and scooped up all her luggage in his muscular arms. He popped the trunk of his hybrid and dropped the heavy bags in with ease, then turned to Elena. "I've already said goodbye to my parents. . ." He tilted his head towards Elena's house and trailed off.

"I have no intention of saying anything to my parents." Elena said curtly. Ever again. She added in her head. Damon raised his eyebrows, clearing sensing the tension and finality in her voice, but he just shrugged and opened up the passenger seat door for Elena.

"Let's get this show on the road then."

Four hours later, Elena slowly opened her eyes and lifted her head from where it was cramped uncomfortably against her neck. The first thing she registered was light, and the second was noise. Her eyes widened as she stared out the car window and took in the most overwhelming sight she'd ever seen. Flashing signs in neon colors boasted largely worded messages, bold advertisement's covered entire buildings, and gigantic stores and hotels covered every inch of the surrounding street. And there were people, people everywhere. Men, women, toddlers, teenagers, all walking and running and yelling and laughing. Ten different songs blasted from forty different speakers. Cars honked, tires screeched, electronics buzzed.

"Welcome to Times Square." Elena turned her head to see Damon lounging in the driver's seat, one eye on the traffic ahead and the other focused on Elena. "Did you have a good nap?"

Elena suddenly felt self conscious. She reached down and smoothed her tee shirt, brushing a hand across her face. She hoped her makeup hadn't smudged too badly while she'd slept. It had felt like just five minutes ago when they'd been pulling out of the driveway. A sudden wave of unexpected exhaustion had hit her, and she'd let her head loll down onto her shoulder for a moment's rest. And now here she was, waking up thousands of miles from home, sitting in a car in Times Square next to a total stranger.

"My apartment is just a few blocks from here." Damon didn't seem at all unnerved by the intense surroundings as the traffic let up and he lurched the car forward. "You okay?" He looked over at Elena again, a touch of concern behind his blue eyes. She realized that she hadn't said a word since she'd woken up.

"I'm fine." She snapped. Even if this view was amazing, she still wasn't going to let Damon know she was enjoying it. She couldn't wait until they got to his apartment so she could start looking for a place of her own to explore the city by herself.

"Good." Damon smiled and looked annoyingly content. Elena reached over and turned up the radio, refusing to have any more conversation with him. She spent the next five minutes until the pulled into Damon's apartment's parking garage staring out the window in wonder. New York City really incredible. It was overwhelming, but she decided that there was a certain energy about the place that she liked.

Damon's apartment building was a large, fine brick establishment with golden revolving doors and a deep green tarp guarding the guests from the warm springtime wind. Damon tossed his keys to a valet and pushed through the door, motioning for Elena to follow him. The lobby they walked into was a gorgeous, high ceilinged room with creamy walls, tall palm fronds in slender vases, and black marble floors. A gigantic reception desk stood in the middle of the room, surrounded by smaller cushions and tables for inhabitants to sit and rest at. People milled around the lobby dressed in expensive clothing, laden with sleek briefcases or colorful shopping bags. Elena couldn't help but gape at the beautiful surroundings just like she had with Times Square. She always tried to resist her parents' lifestyle, but now she was starting to wonder why she had resisted all this finery for the past four years. . .

So consumed with her own thoughts, Elena didn't even notice Damon had wandered off until he reappeared again and tapped her on the shoulder. "We're all ready to go up, wifey." He announced with a cheeky smile.

Elena recoiled at the nickname. _This_ is why you hate your parents' lifestyle, she quickly reminded herself. Because it produces assholes like the one you have to marry. "Don't ever call me that again." She hissed at Damon. He looked unaffected by her harsh tone, and merely started walking towards the elevators, a set of shiny golden doors.

"I don't know why you're so reluctant to embrace the inevitable." He pressed a finger to the black UP button. Elena stiffened. This was it; this was her chance to confront him about why he was marrying her in the first place. She opened her mouth to blurt out the question that had been on her mind for the past week, but the elevator doors slid open gracefully and deposited a tall, rail thin blonde on the lobby floor. Elena saw a flicker of recognition in the girl's eyes when she spotted Damon, who gave her a flirty smile. By the time the blonde had disappeared into the sea of people in the lobby and Elena and Damon had boarded the elevator, the perfect moment was gone.

Later, Elena promised herself as they whizzed to the top of the building. After only seconds, the golden doors opened up to a cream colored hallway with a thick pale carpet lining the floor. Damon lead the way to the left, and pushed open a heavy wooden door marked PENTHOUSE SUITE. He held the door back for Elena, and she cautiously stepped inside.

If she'd thought the lobby was nice, this was immaculate. One entire wall of the beautiful apartment was a window looking out over the city. Elena stared at the hundreds of skyscrapers, cars, and tiny little people moving below her. She felt like she had the world at her fingertips. There was also a marble kitchen, a gigantic flat screen TV surrounded by soft brown leather couches, and a neat little sitting area with stacks of the latest magazines. To the left of the large window-wall there was a door. Elena pushed it open and found one large bedroom. She sniffed in disdain while Damon tossed his jacket on the floor and plopped down on the bed, looking perfectly at home.

"What do you think?" He smirked at her, lying suggestively on the pillows as if he was asking her about more than just the suite. She rolled her eyes.

"I won't be staying here, of course."

Damon's smirk dropped. "Why not?"

"Damon, there's one bed." Elena ran a hand through her hair desperately, feeling increasingly uncomfortable.

"I'll sleep on the couch then." Damon immediately jumped off the bed and made an effort to smooth the pillows back down. His sudden sincerity took Elena by surprise.

"I can sleep on the couch." She defended herself, not wanting to seem spoiled or bratty. Just then a knock came from the door, and Damon went to retrieve their luggage that had been brought up by a bellhop.

"You know, if we're going to be married, maybe sleeping in the same bed is something we should get used to." The signature smirk was returning to Damon's face as he dragged the suitcases into the bedroom. Elena cringed and was about to make an attempt at a sassy retort when a bell-toned ringing sound cut her off. Damon quickly unzipped one of his suitcases and fished around inside of it.

"My phone," He explained, pulling out a slim black iPhone. Damon scrunched his face up and peered at the tiny screen. "Shit." He hissed a moment later. "I forgot I have a meeting this afternoon." He looked genuinely disappointed, and Elena wondered why. What had he been planning on doing this afternoon anyways? Arguing with her over who got to sleep on the couch?

"This will probably take all afternoon." Damon sighed, pulling a fancy looking jacket out of his suitcase and throwing it over his shoulder. "I wouldn't recommend venturing out into the city alone, because it can be hard to navigate if you're not used to it and I don't want anything bad happening to you. Stay in here. Watch TV, order whatever you want from room service. But don't ruin your appetite, because we're having dinner at the Chateau de Royal at eight tonight. I've already made our reservations, and you can take a cab there. Here," Damon reached into his pocket and pulled out what appeared to be a hundred dollar bill, tossing it carelessly on the table. He did all this so fast that Elena didn't have time to protest that she wasn't stupid enough to get lost in the city or that she could pay for her own cab. "This is the address." Damon grabbed a slip of paper and scrawled something on it, placing it on the table next to the money. "Don't be late. You might have gotten off the hook by sleeping in the car today, but I still want to talk to you. I want to know you." Damon's blue eyes were totally sincere, with not a hint of sarcasm behind them. Elena suddenly realized how close they were standing. He was a good deal taller than her, but right now he was leaning down slightly, as if he wanted to get the best possible view of her face. Something about his energy compelled her to lean forward a bit on the balls of her feet. This was the closest she'd ever been to him, and up close his eyes were a thousand different shades of blue.

Suddenly Damon's phone bleeped again and the moment was gone. He gave Elena a curt nod, threw his jacket over his shoulders, and walked out the door. A moment later the click of the lock told Elena she was alone. The moment of eye contact had left her feeling a bit hazy, and she wandered over to the large picture window to stare at the hustle and bustle below. Suddenly, she felt so incredibly alone in the huge city, with only Damon and six million other strangers to keep her company.


End file.
